I’m oceans breath or perfume’s play, a thousand droplets that drift away.

Celebrated since ancient times, twice a year I appear. Once when it's Cold and Once when it's Warm. Stones show when I am here.

If something is left unkempt, a colony attempts. By the point you notice it, what was a ripeness is past tense. Smells, rancid, start to vent. Experienced it upsets sense. From spoiled, to the core it’s used, as vocal, to ferment.

A constellation of land, amongst the waters of the world. No land bridge exists, unless manmade. Though tectonically, I'm all connected.

In a twist of green, I bring peace to the table, yet my branch speaks of harmony. A tiny orb in the lands of sun, I flavor both peace and feast.